A Brief Conversation
by Capsule Cray
Summary: Requested by Charismatic Beauty! One-shot of a mother/son moment on Trunk's wedding day.


Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ!

This one was requested by Charismatic Beauty

R&amp;R if ya please!

A Brief Conversation

-_Knock, Knock- _The sound startled Trunks, and he rounded on the door, wondering who the culprit was this time. The whole day thus far had been nothing but bothersome caterers and planners, and he was geared to _politely _turn away the next person who came to him with questions he did not know (or care about) the answer to. "Coming," he mumbled, the "I don't know, ask the bride," on deck in his throat.

"Hey, kiddo, just me," Bulma said cheerily as her son opened the door, detecting the slight annoyance in his tone.

Trunks breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, hey Mom," he greeted, ushering her into the room so that he could quickly shut the door again and remain undetected by the wedding staff.

"Hiding out, I see," the blue-haired genius teased, beaming at her son. He looked so much like his father, despite being a good foot taller, and his signature Brief hair. Even more so than his father, he looked now just like the boy who had come from the future, the boy who had changed everything. He _was_ that boy from the future, she supposed, but then again, he wasn't really. He'd never known the androids, never known that horrible world his future counterpart existed in; he'd grown up with his father, and with a sister, in a world that was safe and a home that was stable (as stable as one can be with a Saiyan Prince patriarch, anyway).

"Well, I needed to put my suit on, so I didn't think anyone would care if I ducked out for a bit," Trunk's voice brought Bulma back from her thoughts.

"I'm sure," she said with a wink, reaching up to adjust his tie. "Nervous?"

The young half-Saiyan shrugged, then ran a hand through his purple hair. "Yeah, kinda," he admitted with a sigh. He then smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. "Was Dad nervous when you guys got married?"

Bulma snorted. "At that point, I was still teaching him how to use a toaster. I'm pretty sure the concept of marriage went right over his head," she replied. "Besides, we didn't have a big wedding like this. You're hiding from wedding planners; imagine what your father would be doing."

At this, they both laughed, releasing some of the tension Trunks held. "Where is the old man, anyway?"

"Oh, downstairs, somewhere. Bra's watching him," Bulma replied with a grin.

"Good thinking," Trunks said, returning his mother's grin. "What are you doing up here?"

The scientist shrugged, crossing her arms. "Just wanted to check on ya, I guess," She answered. She didn't really have a reason, she'd just suddenly felt the urge to see her son. She had been very excited to host a big wedding, especially since she never had one herself. Being elbows deep in the organization of social events was how Bulma Brief thrived. But, she somehow felt less than thrilled.

Trunks raised an eyebrow, sensing his mother's dis-ease. "You ok?" He had always been very attuned to Bulma's moods, much more so than to his father's. He sometimes wondered if this was because, in another life, she was all he had.

Bulma sighed and gave a sad smile. "Yeah, I am. I guess it's just now hitting me that you're all grown up," she realized, giving a tear-threatening sniff.

"Aw, come on Mom, don't cry," Trunks comforted, putting a muscular arm around her shoulders. "I'm still gonna be running Capsule Corp. with you! It's not like I'm going anywhere." He hated when his mother cried. And not just because it was so loud and, as his father would say, insufferably shrill.

"I know, I know!" Bulma fanned her eyes, trying to salvage her mascara. She realized it was silly; Trunks had done way more "grown-up" things by age 9 than most people did in a life time. He had battled an ancient evil in an attempt to save the world, died, been wished back by magic dragon balls, undergone a legendary-alien-transformation, and so on. Marriage was nothing, right? Still, here he was, her sweet lavender-headed boy, who she used to be able to hold in one arm, towering above her in his wedding clothes. It was utterly overwhelming, and the tears came.

"Mommm," Trunks muttered, cheeks tinting red at the growing hysterics of his mother.

"Sorry, sorry," the beautiful scientist apologized, drying her eyes and shaking her head. "I'm just so proud of you," she said, smiling at him. The two stood silent for a moment, each reflecting on their love of the other. "After all," Bulma added, finally breaking the silence, "you could have turned out like your father."

A laugh was shared between the two, at the expense of Vegeta (for a second time), and then they embraced once more.

"I'll go deal with the wedding staff," Bulma said, giving her son a kiss on the cheek. "You just hide here and I'll have someone come get you when it starts."

"Mom, you are _the_ best."

Bulma winked. "I know."


End file.
